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“I care about him and Elijah. That kid is incredible. He’s so sweet and smart, and he deserves to have some stability in his life after everything that’s been going on.”
“If you really feel that way, you need to consider what getting caught would do to that stability.”
Her stare hits me again, and my stomach tightens. I know getting caught would be disastrous, but I’d really only considered what it would do to Noah and me.
I hadn’t thought of how it would hurt Elijah.
“I…” My eyes well up. “I couldn’t do that to him. I love that little boy.”
“Then I think you know what you have to do.”
Staring down at my sandwich, my appetite is totally gone, and as I reach for my tea, my hand shakes.
“Look, I don’t want to upset you. That’s not ever my goal. But I also want you to be safe, to not get yourself into a situation you can’t get out of, or worse, ruins your career with gossip. I hope you understand that.”
Becca puts a hand over mine on the table and squeezes. I look up at her, the concern in her eyes lancing through me like a knife.
I don’t want this. Just a few hours ago, I was in utter bliss, and now I feel like I’m going to throw up.
But I also can’t deny what she’s saying.
If my dad found out what we were doing, or God forbid, Natasha caught wind of it, this could not only tank my nannying credibility, but it would be leverage to use against Noah and his company.
I have to end this.
Sighing, I sit up straighter in my chair. “You’re right, Becca. Thanks for being honest with me.”
“Hey, that’s what friends are for. I know risky flings can be fun. But all good things have to come to an end, especially naughty things.”
She pats my hand and goes back to eating her salad. I move the fries around on my plate but can’t bring myself to eat any.
“So, now that it’s settled, I do have to know one thing. How was it?”
Becca raises her brows at me and smiles. I laugh at her, but the sound is hollow.
“It was amazing. Absolutely amazing.”
* * *
Becca tries to fill the rest of our lunch date with humor, but I’m less than receptive. When she leaves for work, I hang out at the table for a few minutes longer before walking to my car.
As I sit down inside, a text from Noah comes through asking when I’ll be back, and I tense.
I can’t see him, not now, not after all this, so I come up with an excuse to spend the rest of the weekend alone. I need to do some serious thinking, and reining everything in with Noah is going to be hard.
Sparks were there right from the beginning, and I don’t know if I can trust myself to ignore them if I go back right now. Avoiding him for a bit is the best idea.
I message Noah back that my dad wants to see me and spend some quality time together, so I’m going to go back home and stay there for the weekend.
Noah texts that he totally gets it but is bummed we can’t enjoy more time together. It’s sweet and understanding, and my stomach lurches again.
I hate this.
When I pull into my dad’s driveway, I’m glad to see he’s not home. I head right upstairs to the bedroom I’ve been using and leave him a note that says I’m not feeling well.
Dad texts me when he gets home: Feel better, babe. Message if you need anything.
I don’t.
